Then Sings My Soul Read online

  Chapter 13 - Hazel

  Hazel woke up feeling tired as she had been feeling of late. Reluctantly she rolled out of bed. 5:30 a.m. A half hour before she had to start waking Shanell and Tricia. Stumbling into the bathroom, she washed her face, brushed her teeth, turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm. The spray felt good, waking her up at least, but not quite ridding her of the tired feeling. She knew she was stressed out, badly in need of a vacation. Maybe she should take a few days off and take the girls and her mother to the beach or someplace together. They hadn't spent any time together in a while and it was telling. They lived like strangers in the same household. What with her going to work and school; Tricia always out at rehearsals, Shanell always on the telephone, her mother...Hazel thought about Ma'dear and how few times she'd spent more than a minute with her. She felt ashamed. But I don't have time, she thought. I've hired a nurse that I can hardly afford. Shanell and Tricia keep her company. It's all I can do to make ends meet. I don't have time; she rationalized again. She felt at war with herself. As she reached for her morning cigarette, she heard Tricia's voice in her mind telling her that she smoked too much.

  Yeah, I could rent a cabin in Crestline and maybe get away. We need to become a family again. Her spirits lifted as she prepared herself for work. Stopping at Ma'dear's room, she peeked her head in and was surprised to see her mother awake. Their eyes met.

  "Good Morning, Mama," she said from the doorway. "Did you sleep all right?" There was something in her mother's eyes, an accusing look that made her duck her head.

  "I've got to get the girls up. It's late. I'll talk to you later."

  Closing the door hastily, she leaned against it as she tried to stop her body from trembling.

  Pulling herself together, Hazel entered the girls' room. Tricia woke immediately, tumbled out of bed.

  "Mornin'," she mumbled as she staggered into the bathroom, eyes still closed. Shanell, lying on the cot, turned over and pulled the covers over her head.

  "Com'on now. It's time for school."

  "Aw, Momma. I'll get up when Tricia's out the bathroom."

  "Alright then. But don't let me have to come in here again to wake you," Hazel said. Before she closed the door, she noted how messy one side of the room was - clothes thrown on the floor amid sneakers, papers, books and even a glass from the kitchen. On the other side, Tricia's side, everything was neat and in its place. With two growing girls sharing the same room, it was cramped. Well, I don't have time to deal with that.

  "How would you like to go on a vacation?" she asked the girls when they came into the kitchen. Tricia looked well groomed as she always did in her short skirt with a matching knitted vest, dark stockings and suede boots. Her face carefully made up, her hair stylishly combed in a flip. She's a young lady all ready, Hazel thought. I'll be losing my little girl soon. Shanell wore the dress of the day - denim jeans with holes in the knees, black tee shirt with Bob Marley's face stenciled across her chest, and dirty sneakers. Hazel watched as Tricia poured herself a glass of orange juice and buttered one slice of toast.

  "We're almost out of cereal and milk," Shanell said shaking the last of the Cornflakes into her bowl.

  "I'll have to go grocery shopping tonight. So what about it? Easter's coming and I'll have a few days off. How would you like it if we all went away for a little vacation?"

  "Can't," Tricia said. "Too busy. We're hoping to cut a demo soon. And Harry's got a lot of things lined up for us."

  "Me, too, I don't want to leave my friends. Besides, I got plans. Sorry," Shanell said.

  Hazel felt her shoulders slump. "Maybe I'll go by myself, then."

  "You taking Ma'dear with you?" Shanell asked.

  "Since you're both staying home, I'll leave her with you." Hazel knew her voice sounded harsh. When she rose from the table, her chair almost toppled over. Both Tricia and Shanell looked up from their food. They exchanged glances.

  Hazel rinsed out her coffee cup, picked up her purse, and started for the door.

  Shanell followed her. "Momma, you forgot to give me lunch money." As Hazel counted out $2.00, Shanell went on. "Next week their taking class pictures and I'll need..."

  "You should have told me about it yesterday. I don't have time now," she snapped.

  "But I got to turn it in today or I won't get my picture in the yearbook," Shanell whined.

  "Can't you see Momma's late," Tricia said. "You pick the worst times."

  As Hazel ran down the step, she barely missed bumping into the nurse who was climbing up.

  "Good morning Mrs. Porter. Looks like it's gonna be a lovely day."

  "Good morning," she responded. "The girls are still upstairs. I'm late. Excuse me." She dashed to her car.

  I've got to get away, she thought. Everything seems to be closing in on me.

  She'd missed so many evening classes; she hoped she wouldn't have to drop out of school. Every day at work no one knew whether it might be their last. The tension was heavy. As she drove through the early morning traffic, she became aware of tears slipping down her face. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. Suddenly she spotted a phone booth. Without thinking, she pulled over, got out and called her office.

  "I can't come in today," she said to her supervisor. "It's my mother, she's taken a turn for the worse," she lied, hoping she wasn't courting bad luck.

  The supervisor was sympathetic, told her to take as much time as she needed. After she hung up, the thought of how long it would be before she would be let go, fluttered past like a persistent bee along with the thought of searching for another job, and not being able to pay the bills. She tossed the thoughts aside as she turned the car around and drove back home.

  By the time she reached her apartment, the girls had gone. Except for her mother and the nurse who were in the bedroom, no one was around. She undressed quickly, slipped under the covers and quickly fell into a troubled sleep.

  Chapter 14 - Ma'dear

  Sadie was my best friend. When Mama said I was too wild and threatened to send me to live with my aunt in North Carolina, it was Sadie who came up with the plan to run away to New York. She was having a hard time with her folks, too. Her stepdad used to beat her and her mother. She told me once he tried to rape her. So she planned to leave home as soon as she could. When she told me what she was planning to do, I decided to go with her. Though I knew it would hurt my folks, I just couldn't go to North Carolina. That's even further down South than Virginia and Lord knows I couldn't stand them folks in Virginia. I guess I was pretty wild.

  We left one afternoon when everybody was at work. Papa Jones, Mama's second husband, worked at the sawmill, Mama at the canning factory. My brother Bud had joined the army as soon as he came of age, my baby sister Johnnie was staying with Mama's sister in Delaware for the summer. Nobody was home but me. I told Mama I wasn't feeling well so she didn't press me about going to work in the field that morning. As soon as they left, I put my few belongings into the one old cardboard suitcase we had and headed down the road to Sadie's. Didn't even think about leaving a note. I was a fool, didn't think about nobody's feelings but my own. I was ready for a new life and nothing and nobody was going to stop me.

  It was a warm spring day and as I walked down the road carrying my old piece of suitcase, I didn't even hear the birds singing or see the butterflies or the bees, or smell the blooming flowers. The road was empty. On each side were cornfields and I suppose if I looked hard enough I'd see people working in the fields planting crops, tomatoes, beans, and grapevines. I was trying to kick up as little dust as possible to keep from getting my legs dirty. I carried my shoes. Figured I'd put them on as soon as we got to somewhere with sidewalks. Then I'd throw these old sneakers away and start acting and looking like somebody who didn't grow up in the sticks.

  Sadie was waiting for me down by the big oak tree. She had her belongings in a pillowcase slung over her back.

  "Girl, we can't start no new life like that," I said when I saw how c
ountrified she looked. I wore a brown skirt and white blouse that looked pretty decent. I had packed my Sunday best, the only nice dress I owned. I'd saved up for it and ordered it from the Sears and Roebuck catalogue. Sadie wore overalls and sneakers with holes in the toe. "I got plenty of room in my suitcase. Put your things in here and we'll take turns carrying it."

  Getting a hitch to town wasn't too hard. Most of the colored men who stopped didn't mind giving two young girls a ride in their truck or wagon. They'd ask us questions about where we was going and why. We usually made up a lie that we were sisters and going to see a sick relative in the next town. They'd tell us to be careful.

  Never thought we'd reach the next city alive, though. We had to fight our way out of automobiles, trucks, and wagons, men ready to offer us a ride and as soon as we hopped in within a few miles, they wanted us to pay for the ride in you can guess how. Lord have mercy, if it wasn't for us being together, I don't know what woulda happened. But we made it.

  We was lucky to find jobs in the city working for white folks, cooking and cleaning. Sadie cooked and I would clean, babysit, and do laundry. Determined to get out of the South, we'd stay just long enough to save up bus fare to the next town.

  We worked our way through Virginia, Maryland., Delaware, D.C, New Jersey, until finally we reached New York City. Stepping off the bus at the Port Authority downtown, we had to ask passersby how to get to Harlem. After telling us where to find the subway, a man told us to take the A train up to 135th Street. Talk about a scary ride, we were petrified. It took us several months from the day we left Virginia, but we finally reached Harlem, the colored capital of the world. Wall to wall folks going bout their business. Nobody paying us no nevermind. All around us was sounds, people laughing, talking, music coming out of saloons, that early in the morning; we were shocked.

  We stood on the corner of 135th Street and Lenox Avenue, staring up at the tall buildings, blocking out the sun. But that didn't matter, us carrying all we owned in my cardboard suitcase, trying not to look like two scared girls straight up from the sticks. We was so excited just to be there. I think between us we had about enough money to rent a room. It was nearly noon when we found one.

  The landlady rambled through the rules, no men up in your room, no smoking or cooking in your room, doors are locked at 10 p.m., no this, no that; neither of us would remember half what she said as soon as she said it. We settled in right away, went out to see the city.

  Harlem at night was a wild woman's dream. The city was alive with those same sounds we'd heard when we first set foot on the street early that morning, only more so at night. It didn't take Sadie and me long to make ourselves at home. The landlady told us about her cousin who worked in Bronxville cleaning rich folk houses.

  A few days later, he took us to the people he knew who were looking for help. Since we had a lot of experience in that department we got hired in no time. Sadie worked for a family about a mile away from where I worked. Every morning we caught the bus out to Bronxville along with all the other maids, butlers, and chauffeurs who lived in Harlem.

  Thursdays, our day off, we'd go dancing. In no time Sadie and me had men running after us, taking us places, showering us with presents like nylons and candy, and promising us the world just for a kiss. Child, we was something else.

  Then one night up at Rockland Palace, Willie Joe walked into my life and drove a wedge between Sadie and me big enough to run a train through. Things went downhill fast after that.

  "Why'd you let it happen? You coulda done something."

  "What could I do? Sadie, It wasn't my fault. Why you blamin me?"

  "You coulda done somethin."

  "Stop trying to make me feel guilty. It was just as much your fault as mine. Now you just stop saying that!"

  "Mrs. Washington. Mrs. Washington. What's the matter? Why are you crying? Something hurting you?"

  "Ma'dear. Wake up, Ma'dear. You're having a nightmare. I'll take over, nurse. You can go," said Hazel.

  As she put on her coat and gathered her things, the nurse explained. "I was just sitting here, watching TV. Must've dozed off. She was fine. Then all of a sudden she starts making this noise and acting like she's having a fit, shaking her head and all. That's why I started to call you. I didn't know you were at home."

  "I came back early, a bad headache. I'll take care of her. I'm sure she'll be alright." Hazel walked the nurse to the door and held it open for her.

  "I'll be back tomorrow bright and early."

  "Yes, tomorrow." Hazel closed the door and went back to Ma'dear's room. She seemed to have calmed down. Hazel stroked her mother's hair and rested her hand on her forehead for a moment. Then she sat down and watched her mother's even breathing.

  "What could have upset her?" Hazel wondered. "I wish she could talk, tell me what's happening."

  Chapter 15 - Hazel

  The phone rang startling her. She rushed into the kitchen.

  "Hey baby. I called your office and they told me you were out sick. What's wrong? Anything I can do?"

  Of all the people in the world she didn't want to hear from it was her ex husband. She felt her voice drop. "No, Donald. There's nothing you can do. My mother's here with me now. I stayed home to look after her." What have you ever done for us, she thought sarcastically. "So, is there a reason for this call?" She asked, her voice formal, distant.

  "No, baby. Just wanted to hear your voice. See how you're doing." His was like drowning in 50 year-old cognac. She hated his smooth, syrupy sweet tone.

  "We're fine. You never worried about how we were doing before. Now what's the real reason for the call?"

  "Why does there have to be a reason? You know how much I care about you."

  "Listen, Donald. If you've called about money, I don't have any."

  "Why does it have to be about money? See, that's what's wrong with you. You were always jumping to conclusions. Always ready to think the worst of me."

  She listened to him go on and wondered what she ever saw in him in the first place. How could she have ever married him?

  "I've got to go. My mother's waiting for me."

  "Before you hang up, there's a favor you could do for me.

  "I told you I don't have any money."

  "It's not gonna cost you anything."

  She sighed, "Well, what is it?"

  "I was wondering if you'd let me use your address."

  "My address. What for? Don't you have your own place?"

  He explained that he was starting a business and needed a place separate from his own where he could receive mail orders. "I mean, if you'll just put my mail in a box and I could come over and collect it once a week, no strings, promise."

  It didn't seem like much but still...

  "I won't be in your way. I'll call you and if you want, you could just set the box outside your door and I'll pick it up. Don't even have to bother you."

  Reluctantly, she gave in. Donald was always a smooth talker. A salesman, he could convince you to sell the clothes off your back. Always involved in some type of scheme, on the edge of being legal, though some she wasn't sure of. But she wasn't one to stand in the way of a brother making a living, she told herself; as long as she didn't have to be involved. Returning to her mother's room, just as she settled in the chair, the door opened and Shanell peered in.

  "What're you doing home so early?"

  "I didn't go to work today," Hazel said, getting up. She looked down at her sleeping mother. "You stay with her while I go fix dinner."

  "But Momma, I brought my friend home to do homework with," Shanell stammered. "I can't leave him out there alone."

  "Well, tell him you've got to help your mother. Or do you want me to do it."

  "No. That's okay. I'll do it."

  As soon as Shanell returned, Hazel went into the kitchen, her mind, a bundle of emotions. The rest did some good, but now, she thought, I don't know what's worse, having Mama stare at me with that accusatory look or having her asleep all the time
. Whatever it is, I've got to deal with it. She pulled out a package of chicken from the freezer and slammed it down on the counter.

  Chapter 16 - Tricia

  Have a date with Darien tonight. He's taking me to the movies. When I told Momma, she got mad, telling me that I'd better not be falling behind in my school work or I could kiss my singing career goodbye. But I promised her I'd keep up. I could see she was just talking to be talking. She looked so tired lately. Shanell said Momma didn't go to work today. I was surprised because she almost never calls in sick

  I wished Ma'dear would get better and go home. Not that I didn't love her; it was just that life changed since she came to live with us. It seemed like something was always going on. I never had a moment to myself. And having to share a room with Shanell was really getting on my nerves.

  The doorbell rang and I heard Darien's voice talking to Momma. She liked him, thank goodness. I heard them laughing at something. I made a last-minute check in the mirror.

  He stood when I came into the room, looking gorgeous in his leather jacket, green pullover and slacks. The man could dress. I smiled at him as I walked to the closet to get my jacket.

  "You look pretty," Momma said touching my hair. "Don't you think that blouse is a little low cut?" She whispered in my ear.

  "No, Momma." I frowned. As Darien helped me put on my jacket, I caught a whiff of his cologne. I was swooning. I put a scarf around my neck to hide the low cleavage and to please Momma. We headed for the door.

  "Don't keep her out too late," Momma said.

  "I won't. Night, Mrs. Porter." Darien smiled and closed the door behind us.

  The night was mild; the sky filled with stars and the moon was so bright it was like a spotlight lighting up the street. With his arm around my waist, Darien helped me into his Mustang. We didn't say much as he whizzed down LaBrea to the Baldwin Hills complex, his tape player jamming with the Four Sounds. I rested my head back and listened, my eyes closed. The night felt very special.